


Heretics Can Worship Too

by lunamunin



Category: Something Dark and Holy Series - Emily A. Duncan
Genre: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, i just really love their dynamic, some fluff but like not really??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29014329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunamunin/pseuds/lunamunin
Summary: Nadya finds Malachiasz studying his spell book but he quickly finds interest in something else.
Relationships: Malachiasz Czechowicz/Nadezhda Lapteva
Kudos: 7





	Heretics Can Worship Too

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first attempt at smut so I'm sorry if it's just kind of whatever. Kept it kind of tame since I'm really just testing the waters. I really just wanted to write about these two and ended up here. I'm sure I'll add more chapters to this at some point.

Nadya found Malachiasz in the office Parijahan had told her he'd spent most of the night in, and had stumbled back to early in the morning.  
He was sprawled on a couch of black velvet, back against the armrest, one leg stretched out in front of him, and the other hanging off the side. It would have been the perfect picture of calm arrogance, if not for the way he bit on his fingernails.  
She stepped into the room and stumbled over the heavy boots that had been discarded in front of the door. Though she cursed loudly and kicked them away, Malachiasz did not look up from the spell book he had open in his lap, the same one Nadya had engraved with the symbols of her gods, which still adorned the cover. She knew from the look on his face that he was deeply engrossed in his studies.  
The mugs of tea she brought with her thudded softly against the wooden coffee table and she reached out, tapping the leg he had strewn out on the couch. He lifted it and brought it back down on her lap when she took up the spot next to him. Nadya propped her elbow on it, leaning her cheek into her hand as she watched him.  
The kohl he wore under his eyes had smeared slightly, as if he had been rubbing them. She thought of asking him if he had slept but, the state of slight disarray in his hair suggested he had spent at least a couple of hours laying down.  
He scribbled in the book semi frantically, flipping to one page then back to the other. She watched him run a hand through his long hair, the beads woven sporadically throughout clicking softly. Malachiasz sighed and leaned forward, lifting a mug from the table to his lips.  
“Wait!” Nadya reached out her hand to stop him, “that one is mine, I already drank from it.” He finally looked up at her, with a glint of amusement in his pale blue eyes, and took a sip.  
He lifted a brow, the tattoos on his forehead shifting, and said “well then, I guess I'm lucky you coincidentally take your tea exactly the way I like it.”  
Nadya scoffed at him as she leaned forward to remove her coat, the same one she always wore, that had once belonged to him. He watched her through the rim of the cup, as she unbuttoned it, baring her shoulders and revealing the thin chemise underneath. Watched as her prayer beads slipped into the small space between her breasts. Her cheeks warmed under his gaze as she finally shrugged it off and hung it on the back of the couch.  
A hint of a smile ghosted his lips as he replaced the tea on the table and took up the spell book again. She scooted closer to him, leaning her head to peer over it even though she knew she would not understand the symbols and words scribbled across it's pages.  
“Parj told me you've been in here all night and day, did you discover a way to make yourself something more than a god?”  
He had to the nerve to smile, but didn't lift his eyes, “not exactly. I did, however, find a way to enhance some of my older spells.”  
“Don't you need blood for this kind of stuff?” she asked, her hand sliding up his leg to the small blade he kept strapped to his thigh and unsheathing it.  
This time, he did look at her, his gaze unreadable as he nodded once. Nadya took his free hand in hers and turned it over, bearing his forearm to her, and pressed the blade to it softly, slid it across his skin. Malachiasz hissed softly as the blood swelled from the shallow cut, though she knew he must be used to the pain by now.  
Lifting her index finger to it, she gasped as the wound shifted into a mouth and tried to bite down on her before reverting back to unmarred skin. She snapped her head up to look at him and found him chuckling.  
“You said you didn't have control over that!” she yelled.  
“I don't always have control over it.”  
She crossed her arms and leaned back against the seat,  
“Come now, don't be upset with me,” he drawled, standing from the couch.  
He towered above her before leaning down, his hair curtaining down over his shoulders, and took her chin in his hand, lifting her face to look at him. Smiling softly, he placed a kissed gently on her lips, anger receding from her like a wave. No matter what he did, she could never stay cross with her monstrous boy.  
“You know, Nadya” he spoke low, inquisitively, “I've tasted you in so many ways,” he brought his lips down on hers again, a desire replacing the tenderness from the first one, his tongue slipping in to brush against hers teasingly.  
“Like that,” he groaned, “and, like this...” His hand moved down from her chin, a sharp, quick pain eliciting a gasp from Nadya as one of his iron claws cut ever so slightly into the delicate, sensitive skin on her neck. Slowly, he ran his tongue over the blood that spilled out and she whimpered into his ear, wondering if he could taste the way her blood had ignited. He hummed quietly and knelt before her, settling between her legs.  
She watched in slight horror as he lifted her skirt with the same long fingernail he had just used on her. And when he looked up at her with his devilish grin, her heart beat so loud in her chest she swore she heard it echo in the room.  
“But I've never tasted you here,” he continued, as he brought he face down directly into the fabric that was the only thing keeping her from being completely bare to him. She let out a strained noise and the breath he let out warmed her core more than she thought possible. She had thought the burning she had already begun feeling couldn't possibly get any worse.  
Involuntarily, she lifted her hips to bring herself closer to him and she spoke before she had the chance to register the words, “please, Malachiasz.”  
He smiled in a way she thought only the monster in him could, when he said “what would your gods say if they heard you beg a heretic?”  
The divine retribution she thought to bring down on him was lost in the way he traced lazy circles over the place his mouth had been seconds ago. She could feel the wetness pooling there when she let her head fall back onto the couch.  
Before she had the chance for her thoughts to regroup, before the guilt and shame of allowing this from the Tranivian boy, she felt the coolness of her underwear being pulled aside, and found herself startling forward as his tongue collected the evidence of her arousal agonizingly slowly.  
She moaned shakily and he quickly adjusted himself so that he was cradling the back of her knees in his forearms. Nadya gaped in horror at how exposed she was to him but when she met his questioning gaze, she found herself whining for him to continue.  
Malachiasz obliged eagerly, burying his face into her begging core. His tongue found every spot she yearned for him to explore, as if he could read every need she had.  
When she tried to think of the unholiness of it, he pulled away and dragged a finger up and down her center, the mixture of her pleasure and his actions giving it easy sway. She rocked her hips forward again and he looked up at her. She found a hunger in his blue eyes that she hadn't even known from the Black Vulture. He slid the finger into her slowly at first, the gasp that escaped from her eliciting caution from him.  
She adjusted to it and found herself matching the rhythm he was using to indulge her.  
With a groan, he brought his lips down on her again while his finger continued it's proposition.  
Nadya wasn't sure when she became nothing more gasps and moans that she never really had control over. The pleasure surged, a choir building steadily in reverence, and she repeated his name like a prayer. Kalyazin's cleric reduced to groveling before their greatest enemy.  
“Nadhezda,” his voice saying her name was a hymn.  
He coaxed the release from her suddenly, and it crashed into her in a wave that had her wriggling against him. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, his tongue cajoling the rest of her pleasure till she was left shaking before him, catching her breath.  
“Nadhezda,” he repeated, a breath exhaled, returning to kneel between her, “you are the only holy thing I could ever worship.”  
He placed a kiss on the inside of her thigh, a veneration, then another on her stomach, and another between her chest, in the center of her prayer beads, before he kissed her lips.  
She tasted herself on him, wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her tongue to meet his.  
Malachiasz moaned into her embrace before pulling himself back just enough to look at her, tucking a loose piece of her hair behind her ear, his hand caressing her cheek.  
She wasn't sure how she found the voice to speak, “well, which taste is your favorite?”  
To her dismay, he pulled away entirely, returning to his previous position on the couch.  
With a sheepish grin on his face, he tucked his arm behind his head on the armrest, laid his leg on her lap again, “why should I pick just one? When I can have them all?”


End file.
